


No Need To Worry

by FreeBelovedArmy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Nyotalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeBelovedArmy/pseuds/FreeBelovedArmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She might feel anxious about her relationship at times, and even though she knows it's silly it's something she'll likely always have to deal with. But she merely needs to look at her partner to see how daft her insecurities are, and as long as Françoise continues to look at her with such care she'll know there's nothing to worry about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Need To Worry

A soft sigh escapes Chiara's lips, quiet and content as she presses a gentle kiss to the bare back before her, arm resting lightly over a waist far paler than her own in a soft embrace. The woman before her seems just as content as she is, her breathing slow and relaxed, almost as though she were sleeping. For all Chiara knew she could be; the Italian was certainly ready to drift off to dreamland herself. But the evening sun, despite having fallen behind a far-off hill, out of sight, still sheds a soft light into their room through open curtains in a way that compliments her French lover so nicely Chiara can't help but admire her; her soft, smooth, flawless skin, and the golden hair that was currently swept over her shoulder. Beautiful blue eyes that were likely shut in rest at the moment, and lovely full lips that often held  a playful smirk, or kind smile.

Everything about Françoise, from her physical beauty to her kind, generous, fun-loving personality was perfect, and not for the first time Chiara felt small pangs of anxiety. Françoise was gorgeous, inside and out, with an endless amount of admirers, and although she never intended to be, Chiara knew the French woman had a slight tendency to be a little fickle. She grew bored with relationships quickly - or had at one time, at least - and although they'd been together for nearly two years now, and Françoise _swore_ she would never tire of their relationship, Chiara still felt nervous. Nervous that one day Françoise would meet somebody prettier, nicer, _better_ than Chiara, and the Italian would lose her. The mere thought caused her to tighten her hold around her partner's waist, and it's only then Chiara notices Françoise is trying to get her attention.

"Chiara? _Chère_ , are you all right?" Françoise is already turning to face her before Chiara has a chance to reply, and the Italian almost complains before Françoise's arm drapes over her shoulder, their legs tangling together instinctively as Françoise moves herself close enough so that their breasts are pressed together and their noses are mere centimetres apart. Chiara quickly decides that this is a much better position and bites back her protest, momentarily forgetting the question. Françoise takes her silence as a signal to clarify, and quickly adds to her former question. "You're being awfully quiet, _mon amour_ , is something bothering you?" The concern in though bright blue eyes distracts Chiara from what was bothering her for a moment, and she decides she was being ridiculous once she does remember. So she presses a quick kiss to Françoise's lips before responding, smiling at the look of confusion she receives.

"No, I'm fine. _Ti amo_." Françoise's confusion only grows at Chiara's sudden affection, although she's not about to start complaining, and she soon opts to just smile rather than question her, pulling her a bit closer as she nuzzles her nose against the Italian's.

" _Je t'aime, ma_ _chère_."

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Chère - Dear (French)
> 
> Mon amour - My love (French)
> 
> Ti amo - I love you (Italian)
> 
> Je t'aime, ma chère - I love you, my dear (French)


End file.
